The day was actually pretty normal as far as days went: Clear skies, bright sunshine, and an average breeze. Most ponies had their own things going on. Mostly involving work, or in the case of fillies and colts, school. But this day wasn’t a school day, so it would explain why three fillies were wandering around with plans of their own in a remote part of the woods. Today they found themselves engrossed in something different from what they normally set out to do.
The Cutie Mark Crusaders were confused and terrified. They were more terrified than confused, but the situation called for both even more so than they really comprehended. It was a feeling that brought forth many more emotions out of them than they experienced in their short lives. There was a bit of nervousness as well as excitement; Pinkie Pie had a word for it, however, it escaped them at the moment. They were trying to rid themselves of this horrible feeling,it was almost as if all of their emotions were trying to make themselves manifest at the same time. It was a horrible feeling; even worse than when they disappointed the ones they looked up to and they didn’t like it at all.
They were traveling along the creek in Whitetail Woods when they had come upon a strange object on their crusade. Suffice it to say, they stared blankly at it for what felt like hours before minds could really process what they saw, even if they hadn’t accepted it yet. Yet, each one of them were waiting on another to break the silence so they wouldn’t give voice to their thoughts.
Finally, Applebloom’s voice broke with something akin to a whimper. “Wh-What is it?”
Sweetie Belle looked to Scootaloo for her to answer, but all she received was a vigorous shake. “No idea.” The words came out like they were pulling teeth. “Leave it alone, it could be Discord’s.”
“Ah knew that. Yeah.” They continued staring at a more relaxed stance now that the silence between was broken again.
This thing that had so grabbed their attention just laid there. It wasn’t so much as a thing as a creature, well, part of a creature. What had first grabbed their attention was the rust colored tail that was in stark contrast to the surrounding white birch trees. They had dropped their supplies and ran around the rock at the edge of the river to see who was there, but what they saw surprised them.
The tail was attached to a pony, or what was assumed to be a pony at the time. They immediately came into view of the beige-colored hind legs just slayed out and open to all. At which they could tell immediately by the contours that it was a stallion. Usually one would think that would shock a filly, one would have to remember that most ponies, mares and stallions; fillies and colts, rarely wore clothes.
The next two things that immediately came to their attention well and truly broke them for the next several minutes. First, that this ‘stallion’ had no cutie mark. None. Nada. Nothing to mar his flanks of the beige uniformity. Which shouldn’t have been the first thing, but fillies obsessed with cutie marks will look there first. The second thing, however, was seizure-inducing. They lead their eyes up to his head intent on asking about the absence and then stopped. They looked over him to make sure they knew what they were seeing and again and again.
Scootaloo used her wings to clean her face before looking for a final time; they all saw the same thing. On the barrel were two pegasus wings. They looked like they had been seriously rustled as clumps of primary and secondary feathers were missing. Clearly this pegasus didn’t take good care of himself. After the chest of the stallion, the flesh just folded over itself. Unbroken. There were no forelegs, no neck, no head. The stallion simply stopped being a stallion; simply stopped being anything that could be called ‘living.’
“Think it’s the Headless Horse?” Scootaloo looked around for a stick. Hopefully, a long stick.
Applebloom and Sweetie looked at each other. “Kinda disappointing if it is. Ah was thinking it could chase ponies around, but with two legs…”
Scootaloo found a stick and came back to the others. “It looks so real. I’m gonna poke it. Maybe it’s a costume or something?” She reached out with the stick.
The reaction was instant.
As soon as the stick poked the fetlock, the legs started kicking and the wings started flaring. A stench arose almost immediately and the reaction from the fillies was almost was just as instant.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” the three cried in unison.
Scootaloo dropped the stick as if it had caught fire and they bolted from the bank as fast as their little legs could carry them back to Ponyville. Somepony needed to be told that the Headless Horse was real.
Had they been able to contain their fear and watch the partial body a little bit longer, they may have tried to save it before it fell in the river and get carried away.
* * * * *
“I’m sorry, sir. You need to wait 24 hours before filing a ‘missing persons’ report.” The officer was starting to get annoyed by having to answer this call. It was probably payback for something. He glanced back at the reason he was out in this place.
“B-But. I’m telling the truth! We put on this costume and we were crossing this stream. We both slipped into the water and then he disappeared! I thought he was joking, but he’s gone!” The skinny adult wailed. Hair plastered over his face didn’t make him look any better, but something was seriously wrong. He hugged his costume piece tighter. “The river isn’t even deep! It’s barely a creek! He just-just…” He started to take deep breathes.
“Sir, look: You and that horse head thing-”
“Alicorn.”
One of those... The officer thought before continuing. “Whatever. It sounds to me you’re part of some elaborate hoax. Now, if anyone: family members, co-workers, friends, whatever; haven’t heard from him in 24 hours, you can file a ‘missing persons’ report and we’ll start looking. Calling the cops for a hoax isn’t funny: it’s serious business and it could mean jail time. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
“Officer. Please. May I have a ride back into town? I-I was...he was my ride. And I don’t have anything else on but this costume. It’s so cold…”
Oh my god. The officer sighed. “Sir, public nudity is also a punishable offense, and since I don’t feel like paperwork…” He trailed off. He didn’t really have a reason to be nice, but it’d make for some conversation in this dull town. “Get in the back.”
* * * * *
Warm Track didn’t run this route often, but when he did, it was quiet. Today however, the merchant minotaur knew when he woke up that morning that something was unusual. The flapping thing he found he found in his fish traps confirmed this feeling for him.
He usually woke up and started the next leg of the journey before the sun got too warm, but this earlier distraction cost him most of the day. Trying to figure out what he had wasn’t hard, but the why and the how continued to elude him. Holding the squirming, partial pegasus by both legs he continued to examine it. The weirdest thing about it was the growth of flesh across where the neck should be. Also it was missing a couple of legs and a head of all things, it still managed to live by some method he couldn’t begin to fathom. His brow furrowed, maybe it wasn’t? He’d been to the Griffon Kingdoms before and seen them decapitate chickens and sometimes the body squirmed for minutes afterward. The fur also puzzled him… maybe it was extra skin that dried over? Best not to think about it too much, he thought. He briefly thought of just throwing it back, but after a second thought he figured at least give it a proper burial.
As he tied the legs and wings so it wouldn’t squirm while he was digging, he started noticing a stench; it was powerfully flatulent. He tossed it a little aways so it wouldn’t distract him in his newfound duty.
* * * * *
It took him less time than he thought to dig a hole deep enough to be considered proper. Placing his tools back on his wagon he gazed on the oddity. It had stopped squirming a while back, but the stench was just as powerful. Maybe it was starting to rot and he shouldn’t touch it anymore. Just nudge it into the hole he made.
Going over to it, he started with his left hoof and quickly rolled it into the grave. That out of the way, he started shoveling the dirt over it and wondered if he should bother with a marker. He didn’t really have anything suitable to mark it with and he had already taken a respectable amount of time digging a proper grave for the unknown pony.
Finishing up filling the hole, he sauntered back to his wagon on a job done well. His next stop was a small, Earth pony town that had quite a few well-known residents. He forgot the name of it, but he owed it to himself to at least inquire if any pegasus stallions have gone missing recently. Discreetly though, no need to make trouble if there wasn’t any. He would direct them back to the fresh grave for them to worry over if he found out otherwise.
Author's Note
I would like to thank Visiden Visidane for the idea.
Kudos to SubShock for editing something that I took two hours tops to write. I'm slow, I know.
